


Little Did we Know

by Genkai



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Heavy Angst, High School, Kidnapping, Love/Hate, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genkai/pseuds/Genkai
Summary: A one shot in which Sylar and Claire continue to cross paths. Little did they know, it meant something more than just destiny. Takes place at the end of season one, in which Sylar saves both Claire and himself from a catastrophic event, prompting him to see Claire as more than someone with a gift that belongs to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the tail end of season one but before the finale and will be diverting from its events. Consider this a different take on The Hard Part, and the events that would generally follow. Some spoilers for how Sylar’s power works and some events of season two. This is my first time writing for them.

After dreaming about meeting her biological parents for so long, the reality Claire Bennet faced was jarring to say the least. Her mother was a nice enough woman who could produce flames from her fingertips, but she wasn’t motherly at all, as Claire found out the hard way. And her father? Her father already had a family of his own, a family he actually wanted and seemed to care about. Little did she know Nathan Petrelli wasn’t a perfect husband or father, all Claire knew was what he wanted her to know, by keeping her at an arm’s length. As she leaned over the balcony, she watched Nathan greet his wife and two sons while refusing to acknowledge her existence. The cheerleader’s chest tightened. She missed her own father, her real father. She even missed her annoying little brother, Lyle. But everything she had known in Odessa was far beyond her reach now.

Turning and heading back upstairs, she resigned herself to her fate which was to run away to Paris with her grandmother. The city of New York would be a wasteland in only a handful of hours and Claire knew she couldn’t be anywhere near it. Her father, Noah Bennet, had ensured she had enough time to save herself but the idea of running away from trouble, didn’t sit right with Claire. As she finished helping Angela pack for their trip, Peter approached Claire and handed her a gun, insisting she stay in New York to help with the events unfolding, but to also kill him if necessary. Her eyes went from the firearm to her uncle, uncertain if she could really pull the trigger if prompted. With enough consideration, she decided it was better to be safe than sorry and took it from Peter, feeling its weight in the palm of her hand, her fingers curling around the cool handle. “I don’t want to kill you Peter.”

“I know, but you may have to.” He replied and slipped back out of the room. Claire watched the man go, considering him to be more of a father-figure than his own brother, Nathan. Claire then excused herself, finding herself torn between being a hero or being an ordinary girl. The sixteen year old locked herself in her room, unable to shake the feeling of utter loss and loneliness. She sat on her bed and thought back to her home in Texas and how simple life had seemed only a short time ago. A sudden shudder broke her moment’s peace as she pictured the man known as Sylar, slicing open Jackie’s head before he set his sights on his true target: her. Opening her eyes, Claire knew her priority was to save her family, Peter included. 

Still, her fear tormented her and she had to get some fresh air, finding it far too stressful to be living under the same roof as Nathan and his real family. The blond slipped on her converse sneakers and opened her window, dangling her legs over the three story ledge. Her dark wash jeans did their best to keep out the cold winds but she found her warmth was best retained due to her dark pink sweatshirt. Leaping down, she took no caution to break her fall, landing on her back with her right leg twisted and her left shin protruding from her flesh. Sitting up, she shoved her bone back in place and corrected her other leg’s position. Within a matter of seconds, her body was restored as if she had taken the stairs without any incident.

Getting to her feet, she climbed up the metal fence that surrounded the Petrelli home and hurried along the strange sidewalks of the city. Claire breathed deeply, unable to stop worrying about her real family, the one who had raised her as their own. Her thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Sylar eventually though. There was so little she knew about the man who wanted her powers. Why was he so obsessed with collecting powers? What could he gain from being so unstoppable? It all sounded so cliche to the girl, too cliche. There had to be something more. Who was he before he assumed the name Sylar? He had to be someone’s son, perhaps someone’s old childhood crush. Just Claire came to a stoplight, pressing the button so she could cross, she felt eyes upon her and looked across the crosswalk to see dark eyes surveying her petite form.

It was him: Sylar. 

Of all places?

Having killed Isaac Mendez and been given the gift of painting the future, Sylar had found himself enthralled with the many colors spread out before him, urging him to paint something no one but him could be privy to. After spending what felt like hours in the dead man’s apartment, Sylar found himself at a crossroads. He had painted himself exploding. Having now been faced with a dilemma, he called Mohinder in hopes of trying to prevent the chaos that stared back at him. Mohinder was of no help, as Sylar expected. The only other person Sylar felt gravitated to was his mother, who he then made plans to visit with. Sylar was not a thoughtless murderer, no, he only took powers from those who weren’t really worthy of being special. Killing millions of innocent people in a radioactive explosion was something Sylar was determined to avoid doing. He didn’t want to die, nor did he wish to take down half of New York CIty with him. That wasn’t special, that was just tasteless.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he could ignore his collection of powers and return to his life as a watchmaker. If being special meant being a mass-murderer, Sylar would begrudgingly trade his powers away for the chance to live, even if the life itself was far less grand and meaningful. Having left the loft feeling a bit paranoid as he knew two people had gotten close to him, as he could hear two heartbeats, Sylar made quick work to find his mother’s apartment. He didn’t visit as often as he should so he had made note to bring her one of the rare snow globes she was rather fond of, and in need of. His mother, Virginia, welcomed him with open arms, seeming the only person to smile at his presence. He stepped inside and the two briefly caught up as she began to make him a sandwich, despite his insistence he wasn’t hungry. 

It was just like his mother to not listen to him. It infuriated Sylar to no end to have his mother continue to dote upon him as if he were but a mere helpless child. She had no idea how wrong her assumptions were. An argument soon broke out and he approached her, asking if she would accept him being just a watchmaker, needing to know if someone could love him without the need for his powers. But his mother insisted he could do wonderful things, that he was a gift from God and could do anything he wanted, like become president. Here Sylar had tried to ignore what fate was telling him, tried to rely on his mother’s support and guidance and yet she only added to his internal conflict. He didn’t want to hurt so many people, he wanted to be special on his own merits but he craved more abilities and he had hoped his mother could have shown him a glimmer of hope that he could stop his quest of madness. 

Instead of finding reassurance, he decided to show her his power, two of them in fact. Grabbing the sink’s flexible faucet, he began to spray the living room, letting the water turn to sleet. He used his power he took from James Walker, to freeze the water that rained upon them much like they were inside one of the many snow globes Virginia collected. Seeing the look of amazement on his mother’s face, Sylar used his telekinesis to have the glass globes fly around the room. Unfortunately his mother’s smile dropped as she began to see the darkness fall across her son’s face. Now distressed by her reaction, a globe ended up hitting her in the head, prompting her to lock herself in her bedroom, demanding he leave her alone. 

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He was genuinely sorry.

Unable to handle the rejection, Sylar refused to leave and begged his mother to forgive him. She was all he had left. If he lost her, who would he be able to turn to? She finally opened the door and grabbed a pair of scissors, in the scuffle to try and disarm his mother, he accidentally stabbed her in the chest. She fell to the floor and Sylar for once, felt utterly powerless to stop the bleeding. Before he could do anything, Hiro Nakamura appeared and was hesitant to kill Sylar. Both grieving and seething with rage, he was surprised he hadn’t killed Hiro and his sidekick before they had fled. Stopping and moving through time was a power Sylar yearned for but could not actively pursue at the moment. The first prize on his list was always Claire Bennet and her gift of regeneration and healing. It was extraordinary and she was wasting it, unwilling to push herself and her power. He found her lack of tenacity disappointing, little did he know how wrong he was, in regards to his assumption of the perky cheerleader.

Fleeing the apartment, he wandered the streets of the city, still wearing his blue sweater and slacks, clothes he hadn’t worn since he had given himself the name of Sylar. He felt like his two personalities were fighting with one another he and wasn’t sure who he truly wanted to be. The night itself was growing older, people were beginning to retire for the evening but Sylar felt he had no place to go, no place he could hide from the world and its many trivialities. His heart was aching. As he approached a crosswalk, finding very few cars cruising the more affluent part of the city, he noticed a blond on the other side, looking rather solemn. Almost as much as him. His eyes narrowed and his heart nearly skipped a beat. “Claire Bennet.” He whispered, allowing his new gift of sensitive hearing to reach across the street to hear her heart, her breathing. 

By the time Claire had noticed Sylar across the street from her, the notion to run was a useless one but it didn’t stop her from taking off. Sprinting down another street, Claire could hear him following her close behind through the darkness, as he had been blessed with extra time for his pursuit. Without streetlamps, Claire found herself moving on pure instinct but as soon she took a hard left, she found herself trapped at a dead end. She spun around and looked to see Sylar had caught up with her, though unlike her he seemed to be somewhat out of breath. “Hello Claire.” He smiled to her as he continued to creep closer to the blond who stood her ground. Her gun was on her bed where she had left it. Even her cell phone had been left behind and she felt foolish for leaving now. “I have had the most illuminating day...and to have it lead me to you, is rather...interesting.” He was now close enough to touch her but he resisted, for the time being. “I’d been looking for a sign and I believe you are it.”

“I’m what exactly?” Claire asked, taking another step back, trying to put as much distance between them as possible while ensuring her back wasn’t literally against a wall. She could kick him to the ground until her foot shattered. In turn, he could slice her throat open yet she’d still be able to walk away unscathed. Even so, Claire felt as though she was in danger. Sylar had more powers, had more practice to hone his skill, and he had the mind of a killer. Claire could never kill someone, not even Sylar, as much as the thought appealed to her in the moment.

“I’ve been looking for a sign on how to change the future. I saw myself stealing someone’s power, a power that will cause this very city to explode. Poof.” He waved a hand in front of his face, mimicking the explosion with his fingers. Claire knew he meant Ted, the man who blew up her home not long ago. “I don’t want that power, it doesn’t interest me...not the way yours does, Claire.” He took another step forward, his eyes locked with hers. He had felt so lost, so alone but upon seeing her, he found it rather auspicious. No one else in the city would be able to comfort him the way she could. How long since it had been since he had felt the warmth of a woman’s touch? Sylar often paid little mind to his seuxal desires but seeing scared little Claire, someone who could surely understand him, made his urges stir. His gaze darkened as he took another long sweeping step forward, trying to rid them of the distance she had put between them. Little did she know, no matter the distance she tried to put between them, it would never be enough to escape his reach.

“You’re going to cut open my head and what...eat my brain?” Claire scoffed as she felt the brick wall brush up against her sweater. How had she been cornered so soon? She felt fear twist into tight knots, sinking to the bottom of her stomach. It felt as though there was no one else in the city besides her and Sylar, like they were in their own world.

“Eat it? Don’t be so grotesque.” His face scrunched up slightly at the thought of eating someone’s brain. How could Claire be so naive, so ignorant? “I have what your father calls intuitive aptitude.” He said, pressing a palm against the brick wall, right beside the blond’s head. “It seems Peter Petrelli, your uncle, can empathize and use powers someone’s power having only been around them for a short period of time. Yes, Claire I know who he is to you and if you behave, I won’t go pay him, and everyone else you hold so dear, a visit.” He said, leaning into her, able to feel her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Sylar loomed over her small form, holding his breath for her to flee or fight against him but for now, it seemed her was keeping her well contained without the aid of his abilities. And here he was hoping she’d want to play with him. If anyone could catch his interest, it had to be Claire Bennet.

For now, she seemed to be intrigued so he continued his explanation, “In order to fully understand the way one’s power works, I do need to get inside their head but I don’t take anything.” He told her, still clearly insulted at her stupidity. “I just look around, get a feel for the way their brain functions and then that’s it.”

“That it?” She repeated, not buying it.

How could it be so simple?

“That’s it. Of course no one survives my little exploratory procedure, they tend to bleed out. It’s a real mess.” He lamented for a moment before he dipped his head down, now using his telekinetic powers to hold her in place. Sylar had given her plenty of opportunities to run away or throw him across the street into oncoming traffic. Perhaps if he pried open her noggin, he’d be able to see how her beautiful brain functioned. “But you’re special, I wouldn’t have to kill you...” He whispered into her ear, his lips curving up to form the faintest of smirks. “To understand you.” Sylar licked the side of her face, almost able to taste her fear. For a moment he wanted to scream. Why couldn’t she accept him!? Claire was just like him, she was special. Why couldn’t she just see that? Why did she have to cower like everyone else? Instead, the man clenched his jaw and pressed his body up against her frozen one, refocusing his thoughts.

Unable to even move her fingertips, Claire closed her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze. “You will never understand me.” She declared. She could feel a hard bulge against her stomach and though her experience with sex was limited to what she had seen online and had been taught in school, she knew Sylar was attracted to her. The thought was revolting. The hand that wasn’t positioned beside her head, moved down to the blond’s jean clad crotch and palmed her roughly, causing Claire to emit a whimper. “Don’t…” She tried to say through clenched teeth.

“Funny, I remember thinking the same thing as your father imprisoned and tortured me.” Sylar muttered, his anger rising just as it had fallen. His hand moved from her pants, up to slip under her soft sweater, finding Claire’s flesh unfiltered by any sort of shirt. Sylar’s hand snaked up to grab hold of her left breast, squeezing it hard through her satin bra. “I won’t blame you for the actions of your father.” He assured her, pressing his lips to the right side of her neck but not yet kissing her. Breathing in her scent he went on to conclude, “The sins of our parents do not belong to us.” Biting hard into her neck, enough to draw blood, he watched as her wound began to heal itself. He was astonished by Claire’s gift but even moreso by her modesty. She could be doing amazing things, she could be fearless.

Wincing, the pain slowly faded away along with the gash on her neck. “Just get it over with.” She grumbled and opened her eyes, her blue orbs shimmering. He could slice her up and leave her alone. Suddenly feeling his lips crash into hers, she yelped and found her lips being pulled apart to give his tongue entry. Sylar wasn’t shy nor gentle with his new plaything. His rough tongue explored Claire’s mouth, his teeth grazing against her tongue and lips; his voice growled as she timidly responded, her own tongue fighting against his but ultimately found it a losing battle. There was the fight he was looking for. Of course, he could remove his mental restraints, though that would spoil the night, so he was pleased that she had found some means of fighting back. He didn’t want things to be too easy. That was no fun.

Once he tore himself from her bruised lips, he bought his left hand from from the brick wall to unzip her sweater, his other hand moving down from her breasts to unbutton and unzip her jeans. If Claire had full use of her body, he suspected she’d be kicking by now. He was spurred on by the fight behind her eyes though, for now it would have to be enough to spark his desire. To make him feel something other than pain. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” Clearly Claire could still verbally protest. “Stop it.” She whined as a cold hand slipped into her panties, his left hand using his telekinesis to inch her up the wall so she was at a better height for him. Sylar leaned in and nipped hard along her collarbone, spurred on by her words of hatred. It made him feel alive and a part of him hoped she felt alive too. It would be a waste of talent for Claire to walk through life in a catatonic state. 

As his hand felt her subtle wetness, his middle finger slipped into her but before it got too far, he pulled away to study her flushed face. “Have you ever been touched before, Claire?” He asked her, his tone calm but slightly curious. His mind loved to tinker, to see how things worked and he was very dedicated to deciphering the girl in front of him. She breathed in deeply and without needing to bother with fumbling about with words, her face said it all. Sylar, for a moment, felt torn. His momentary reconsideration faded as he realized she was his for the taking. “Don’t worry.” He smirked. “Once I’m through with you, you won’t want anyone else but me. I’ll take everything, your mind, your body, and then some.” He promised as he kissed her again, his thumb brushing up against her clitoris.

The girl squirmed against his touch, having only assumed he wanted to peel back her brain. This turn of events was making her dizzy. Her heart was beating so loudly, she could feel it echoing inside her head. Claire let out a groan of frustration, noticing her body responding to Sylar’s touches. His left hand began to undo his own slacks, not wanting to waste anymore time, just in case someone happened to stumble across their little game. Noticing Sylar’s distraction, she captured his lower lip and bit down hard, causing the watchmaker to recoil back and hiss, “Fuck.” He put a finger to his swollen lip, tasting blood. Now it was Claire’s turn to wear a smirk across her face. Rather than want to curl his hands around her throat, he found himself more amused than angry at her. “Let’s see how long you’ll hang onto that smirk of satisfaction.” He simply said as he removed his hand from her panties and pushed himself into her, effectively pinning her to the wall as he began to fuck her against it.

Sylar’s hands grabbed onto Claire’s sides, finding himself in need of actual bodily contact. Her warmth was incredible. Her walls were so tight, providing him with friction and resistance that only added to the intense surges of pleasure. With each thrust of his hips, he felt his lust for power steadily dwindle. With his mind focused on her tight pussy, his telekinesis waned as Claire could at last move her arms. She grabbed hold of his sweater and tried to push him off of her, his mouth clamping back over hers to muffle her voice. Her grip weakened as she felt him hit a certain spot. Her vision blurred as she found herself finally kissing back. She hated Sylar and didn’t want any of this to be happening but what was happening, felt strange, felt good. Shame swelled inside her chest as she felt her hands trail down to Sylar’s hips, holding him there as he kept pounding into her.

He broke the kiss as he noticed her change in demeanor. There was still fear and disgust in the eyes that stared at him but now there was a small hint of acceptance and need. Maybe they were finally starting to understand each other. Sylar placed his lips to her ear as he felt himself getting close. “Your innocence is intoxicating.” He moaned into her ear. With a few more hard thrusts, he emptied his seed into the cheerleader; and several spurts later, Sylar fell back to earth. He pulled out of her and wiped himself on the side of her jeans before he slipped himself back into his slacks, feeling quite satisfied. He moved a finger, placing Claire back down on her feet, yet still restricted her movements. “Come along, Claire.” He hummed and walked out of the alley, motioning her with his finger, his powers forcing her to follow along like an obedient little pet.

“Where are you taking me?” She found her sweater and jeans now zipped up.

“Out of this rotting city, we’re getting as far away from this place as possible.” Sylar said as he strode over to a 2003 black Toyota Camry and unlocked it with his powers. He had Claire get in the passenger's side while he got behind the wheel and headed out of the city, taking the Lincoln Tunnel. Sylar had to smirk at the people still wandering the dirty, urine coated streets, they were pathetic, so unaware of the fate about to befall them. A renewed sense of authority fell over the man as he sped through the minimal traffic, pitying the fools who had no idea of the explosion that would take place. Claire looked out the window and couldn’t help but worry about Peter and her father and everyone else. She was now a prisoner and she had to figure out a means to escape and help the others. Sylar was a coward and she wouldn’t let him take away her family.

The drive was silent. The digital clock read 1:04 AM but her mind was reeling, unable to let her slip into dreamland. Sylar was quiet as he drove and it kept Claire on edge. How long could he control her? She was sure he was getting tired too but the idea of him pulling over into the parking lot of a seedy motel made her skin crawl. As the clock read 1:43 AM, she spoke up finally, feeling somewhat brave. “I wish my father had killed you when he had the chance.” She said coldly.

Sylar didn’t immediately respond to Claire, his eyes still on the dark road ahead of them. He could feel her hate from where he sat and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Here he thought she could accept him but she was still set on refusing him. It was infuriating. Or perhaps arousing. “You should be thanking me that I hadn’t killed him when I had the chance...and believe me, I had more than he did.” Sylar said quietly.

“That just makes you even more stupid, I suppose.” Claire snipped. Her body suddenly twisted around to bend over the middle console, her mouth opening to accept Sylar’s cock which had been pulled out from his pants thanks to his power. Sylar had decided to find a better use for that mouth of hers. Claire’s head bobbed up and down as Sylar kept his hands on the wheel, his finger springing up and down, her head forced to mimic the same enthusiastic motion. The wet suction was a welcomed relief for Sylar who was finding his new companion to be quite irresistible. He could tell he’d never get enough of her and thankfully, he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight.

“Oh Claire.” He moaned as he forced her all the way down, her lips pressing into the fabric of his pants as she deepthroated his length. Sylar had relaxed her throat muscles to ensure she wouldn’t struggle with his cock’s length and girth. Holding her there, his own hips pumped up into her open mouth, feeling her saliva coat his cock, mixing with his precum. The faintest of whimpers could be heard from the blond as he sped the car up, noting they were making good time. He glanced down at the mess of hair in his lap. He moved a hand down to stroke her back, his nails brushing up and down her spine. “I’m not letting you go, so get used to the taste of my cock.” He muttered, his breathing gradually getting slower and deeper.

Within two minutes of Claire’s mouth slipping up and down his rod, he felt himself nearing climax. With another twitch of his finger, she was back to deepthroating him. Though his powers kept her steady, a hand couldn’t help but press her head further down as his hips bucked. His cum shot down her thoat, sticking to the sides. His hand pulled her hair hard as his other hand kept hold of the steering wheel. It seemed this time he released even more potent gunk than last time. Claire gagged on the thick cream but found herself forced to swallow as he held her in place. “Fuck…don't be messy Claire.” Sylar breathed out, surprised to still be unloading into her. The globs of cum slowly but steadily crept down into her empty stomach, as his cum was the first meal she had in over 12 hours. The recent events hadn't offered her much time to pause and eat so in some twisted manner, Sylar was providing for her better than her own blood relatives. 

Finally released from his control, Claire sat up and gasped for air. Though she had learned in that abrupt lesson to give a blow job and to also breathe through her nose, Claire still felt starved of oxygen. Sylar continued to drive, his cock already hidden back in his trousers. Claire’s tongue traced the inside of her mouth, tasting his seed in every corner. His power returned, confining her to her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a subtle sense of control and satisfaction grace his face. She wanted to punch him until all of his teeth turned to dust. 

“I'm going to escape.” She muttered. Maybe it was foolish to declare her intentions but she didn't care. He probably knew she would anyway.

“Good, keep believing that.” Sylar shrugged. “I look forward to the chase. Though there's nowhere you can go where I won't follow…” He reached over to brush a bit of her hair behind her ear. “I admire your strength, it would be a shame for me to take that away from you.” He said, his tone almost considerate as the night slowly turned to day. The duo made quick progress across the country, only stopping for gas or snacks. From time to time, Claire would look out of the side mirror, wondering if anyone would be looking for her. With the election concluding, part of her was worried Nathan and Peter wouldn’t think much of her disappearance. Then there was her real father, she had no idea where he was, whether he was close to the danger in New York City, or if he was on the other side of the country. Would she ever see him again? What about the rest of her family? Would Peter be able to control his radioactive power?

“Who were you...before you decided to call yourself Sylar?” She spoke up as the man got back in the car, having filled up the car with another half a tank of gas. Sylar handed her a sandwich he had procured from the minimart and sighed, not sure why she’d have any interest in him. Maybe she was trying to humanize him. Or maybe she really was genuinely interested. “Do you have any siblings?”

“My name was Gabriel Grey.” He replied as he started the engine and pulled out of the gas station, leaving behind a redneck yelling at his wife in the backseat of their beat-up army Jeep. “And no, I was an only child.” He said as they returned to the road. Using his powers to control Claire’s movements were taking a toll on him and he knew at some point he would need to pull over to rest. That was a risk of course, he would need to ensure his pet was secured properly so she wouldn’t escape. After stumbling upon her, he was not keen on letting her slip between his fingers again. His focus would be solely on her. “I always had to wonder what it would be like to have a sibling, you must be a good older sister.” He swept the conversation back to Claire, wanting to know more about her.

Claire hadn’t expected Sylar to ask her about herself. She took a bite of her ham and cheese sandwich, chewing slowly. She really didn’t want him to know anything about her. It was none of his business. And the last thing she wanted was for him to go after her family. “Sometimes I wish I was an only child.” She finally said. Sylar glanced to her and returned his eyes to the road. Though she hadn’t given him much, he was still glad for something. It had been so long since he had held a conversation with someone but he was growing nervous. She would try to escape, she would leave him and then he would be all alone again. Those facts left a bitter taste in his mouth that even coffee could not wash out. 

After driving for another chunk of hours Sylar had to surrender to his physical and mental needs. He pulled into a small parking lot and had Claire stay in the car. Usually if he pinned someone to a wall or a ceiling, they stayed put without needing supervision but Sylar was exhausted, so as he walked off to go get a room for the night, Claire could feel his restraints weakening. The girl could slowly feel her hands clench and unclench. She tested her feet and found they were also back under her control. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she got out from the car and took off running. The area was not a city or even a town. It only had a handful of fast food joints and gas stations. She didn’t even know which state they were in but she knew she had to put as much distance between her and Sylar. Hiding nearby would not be enough.

Running across the wide dirt road, she almost made contact with a minivan. Claire couldn’t stop to apologize as she kept on moving, knowing Sylar would be noticing her disappearance shortly. Finally settling on a place to hide, she ducked into the restroom of a random gas station. She left the door slightly ajar, not wanting to draw attention if it was closed, but also she needed some fresh air. She pressed her back up against the wall behind the door, waiting. By the time Sylar returned, he had found the door open with Claire missing. He was too tired to be angry. He knew she wouldn’t get far and even if she did, he would find her, it was a truth even she couldn’t deny in her heart. Making use of the room, he headed off to get some rest, knowing he couldn’t exactly flip cars and pursue a cheerleader in his current state. 

Since she didn’t have her phone, it was difficult to keep track of the time but after what she thought had been an hour, she emerged from the restroom and went inside to ask to make a phone call. The man behind the counter seemed distrustful of the girl but allowed her to make a call anyway. She phoned her father who explained Nathan had won the election. He told her to wait for him and he’d send a trusted contact to pick her up. In no position to question him, she hung up and went back to waiting. She hadn’t asked about Peter or what the city was like. All she could do was wait. After another two hours of worrying and watching the motel across the street, a black car pulled up in front of her. The man behind the wheel was a familiar face. It was the Haitian. Though she had tried to shake him when he tried to get them out of the country, she knew she could trust him. He knew more than she had given him credit. Getting in the car, he drove off, explaining he would be taking her to Costa Verde, California where her family would meet her, where they would start their new lives. Looking out the window, she still didn’t feel free of Sylar’s grasp. Watching the trees and herds of cows rush by, she felt her anxiety grow. Where was Sylar? Would he really come after her? He had yet to cut her open so she was sure their paths would eventually cross. The question was when.

Claire and the Haitian stayed in a hotel the next night and since the news had nothing about an explosion in New York, she had to assume Peter had managed to control his power, the future being spared a horrible fate. The following morning, they took a plane the rest of the way, landing in L.A where they drove down to the small southern town of Costa Verde. As they pulled into the driveway of her new home, her new cell phone rang. It was her father. “Dad?”

“You should be arriving now. Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, we just pulled up. Where are you and the others? Do you know what happened with Nathan and Peter?” She had so many questions and she didn’t want to wait to get them answered one by one. “Are you coming out yet? Do you know where Sylar is?”

On the other end, Noah was busy with his own loose ends that needed to be tied up before he joined his daughter and family on the west coast. “I’m just leaving New York, your mother and brother are on their way to join you.” He assured her. “Nathan took Peter away right before there should have been an explosion. We don’t know what happened to them...I’m sorry.” He knew it was a difficult situation for his daughter but she couldn’t blame herself for what happened. He was just glad she had managed to get away from Sylar unscatched. Claire hadn’t mentioned the sexual component, finding her shame too powerful to bring to light. “I will be home in a few days..” He said, moving on to her next question. “Sylar is undetectable right now...we have people looking for him but he’s too smart to be caught when he knows we’re onto him.” He had gotten into contact with Mohinder and wanted to use him to take down The Company, but for now he needed a cover. His family had to still be kept safe from harm, at all costs.

Once being reunited with her mother and little brother, Claire finally felt whole again. She was told she’d be attending the local high school on Monday, though it had already been in session for a month, making Claire feel as though she were at a disadvantage. Still, when he father arrived Sunday morning, he assured Claire that all she needed to do was keep a low profile and not draw attention to herself. It was hard though, she had been torn away from her home and her friends. She missed Zach. She missed the quarry where she would fling herself from 80 feet in the air. Claire had her family and knew how lucky she was but she couldn’t help but want a normal life without all the danger and lies. 

She missed not knowing who she really was.

Monday morning arrived and Claire managed to make it through the school day without ruffling any feathers though the cheerleaders had caught her hazel eyes. They were cliche and cruel. It almost made her feel at home, seeing them bully the weak. It wasn’t fair though and she wanted to put the head cheerleader in her place. But she resisted, remembering what he father had asked of her. The rest of the week flew by with her begrudgingly befriending a boy named West. For some reason he thought she was special but she did her best to keep her distance but after seeing him outside of her house twice, she had to confront him. He claimed he saw he cut off her toe only to have it regrow itself back, like a lizard. Before she could try to convince him otherwise, he picked her up and fly off with her, showing off his own gift.

Her father was clear about his rules, he didn’t want her being a cheerleader, using her powers or dating. And at the moment, Claire had violated two and was thinking about also trying out to be a cheerleader, at West’s suggestion. He thought if Claire went out for cheerleading, his father would be less strict and it could give him and Claire a cover when they wanted to meet up. Claire wasn’t so convinced but tried out for the squad with her father’s blessing. She didn’t make the team but Claire was just glad she had been able to try and do something. Life felt so dull, so boring. While she wanted a life without drama, she hated having to hide her skill. It felt like she had to live with her hands tied behind her back and West seemed to understand her struggle within her.

With school over for the week, her father and mother decided to go out to dinner and her brother was staying at a new friend’s house for the night, leaving Claire alone for a few hours. The blond invited West over and the two stayed up in her room, spending time just curled up, making out. When her father’s car pulled into the driveway, West flew out of her bedroom window, making sure not to be seen. By the time her parents checked up on her, she was in bed doing some reading for her science class. They said goodnight to one another and left her alone. Claire padded over to the door and shut it, noting the light leaking from under her parents’ bedroom door had just gone out. She sat on her bed and texted West but found him unresponsive. She decided he was sleeping so she curled under her covers, electing to do the same.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she felt her body suddenly go rigid 

Her heart sank.

Sylar stepped from the dark outline of her bedroom, looming over her. “I told you I would find you, Claire Bennet...or should I say, Claire Butler?” He stepped over to where she laid, quite happy to have finally located her. “I missed you terribly.” He admitted, sitting down beside her, his arms moving on either side of her, pulling back her baby blue sheets to reveal Claire in a white tank top and hot pink shorts. His eyes trailed down her long tanned legs. He had missed her in so many ways. “I thought about what I’d do when I found you. I thought about sneaking into your bedroom at night, maybe I’d fuck you while your father sleeps in the next room. And here I am.” He moved his body over hers, straddling her, his rough dark jeans pushing into her slightly exposed lower abdomen. His power had also moved around her vocal cords, ensuring she wouldn’t dare scream and ruin his fun. “I missed your pretty face…” He muttered, moving a hand to cup her right cheek. “And those eyes of yours, even if they weren’t happy to see me...there’s something about them.” He leaned down and kissed her with surprising softness. 

Sylar had on more comfortable clothes that suited him. The last time he had found Claire, he had been trying to slip back into the notion of being Gabriel Grey but now he was back to embracing Sylar. He had on dark jeans and a black collared shirt. It was simple but gave him a sense of authority. His hands moved along the thin tank top straps that rested against her shoulders. Desire began to fill his soul. “Reality is so much better than any fantasy.” He moaned into her ear, feeling himself growing hard. His hands ripped down the front of the thin fabric, revealing her bare breasts. His hips rolled into hers, forcing another moan to enter Claire’s ear. “We are connected, you and I. There is an undeniable bond between us that cannot be broken.” Sylar breathed as he moved his hands down to his belt, the metal clinking slightly as he hastily undid it, along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

Staring up at him, she couldn’t believe this was happening again. She couldn’t move, couldn’t resist the way she wanted to. She wanted him to just cut her open and leave her alone, she didn’t care about him or what he’d do with her power. Noticing the fire fade from her eyes, Sylar stilled his movements, not wanting to win so easily. “Don’t leave me now, Claire.” He said quietly. In the moonlight which rained upon their bodies, she looked so innocent, so stunning. She was all his and that was the way it had to remain. He would keep her to himself, would take care of her. A small ache could be felt in his heart, an ache he hadn’t felt in so long. “We need each other.” He slipped his fingers under the hem of her shorts and panties, he slipped them down enough to gain access to her. 

Claire looked up at Sylar, feeling too many emotions well up inside of her. West had completely left her mind, replaced with the man on top of her, his pants undone, hers partially removed as well. She could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Her family couldn’t know about Sylar and what he had done to do her. It was a secret she would happily keep hidden. Shame and anger swirled around inside of her but there was a hint of resignation. She wanted to give up, to give in and let Sylar have his way with her, the sooner he left for the night, the better she would feel. His lips moved against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he controlled her own tongue, mashing them together in a sloppy exchange. A small flicker of lust could be detected in her chest. Being a hormonal teenager, Claire couldn’t help but find pleasure in the feeling of their tongues dancing together.

Her face turned a light shade of pink as her heart began to pick up speed. West hadn’t been able to make her feel this way. Though she still didn’t want Sylar, didn’t consider his touches consensual or wanted by any means, she couldn’t deny that his confidence made her feel good, aroused. West was clumsy, unsure of himself and Claire didn’t have much experience either but with Sylar, he at least knew what to do in order to get what he wanted. As her tears began to fall, she felt so conflicted; she didn’t want Sylar but he made her feel oddly whole. Sylar’s thumbs moved up to brush away her tears. As much as he wanted to have her, to control her like his own babydoll, he had to also make her feel good. He wanted her to be his woman, wanted her to only cum because of him. Putting his own needs aside, he slipped down between her legs and pulled off her shorts and panties completely, flinging them towards her closet. His hands moved under her thighs, bending and propping her legs up so he could have a taste of the innocence he'd been craving. His tongue slipped between her folds, disappointed to find her less aroused than he had hoped. 

Making quick use of his tongue, he trailed the muscle up to her clit, nudging it tentatively before he moved to a circular pattern, rotating the nub slowly before he changed directions. Claire was oddly quiet and he remembered his hold on her. He didn't want her to scream for help but he wanted to hear her moan. 

What to do…? 

He released his hold on her vocal cords and resumed his work better her legs, wearing a similar look of fascination he had when working on clocks, or more recently, cutting into people's skulls. Claire couldn't squirm under his touch but she did allow herself to let out a noise of struggle. Sylar’s hands massaged the backs of her exposed thighs, feasting on both her sweetness and warmth. His mouth surrounded her teased clit now, sucking on the captured bud. This act finally earned him a deep moan from his blond. His lips curved up to form a smirk. He did that. He made her feel good. Sylar moaned into her, getting her to offer another small cry of pleasure. He could tell how conflicted she felt, she didn't want him but she also did. It was so compelling. His toy was a delight to play with. 

“You're going to moan my name before we’re done tonight.” He informed her, lifting his head up for a moment. 

“N…never. You're a rapist and a psychopath!” She hissed. 

There was the fight he was looking for. “I'm ambitious, Claire.” He corrected her. Sylar moved back down to her folds, finding her a little more aroused now. Interesting. Sylar’s mouth placed wet kisses leading back up to her clit, sucking while his tongue pressed into the collection of nerves. Unable to fight the pleasure, his victim let out several pained moans, her body needed to move but it was impossible. He could tell she was close already. Her inexperience was an appealing factor. It meant he could groom and teach her all the things he wanted without her knowing any better. Sitting up, the man licked his lips, staring down at the flushed high school girl, his own lips still smirking. Little did she know, he had so many plans. For now, he wanted her to cum when he was inside of her. He yanked her legs, pulling her down the bed so her legs were resting against his clothed shoulders. Sylar pushed him into her with no other warning, feeling her walls attempt to reject the invading cock. “So tight.” He grunted. “No matter how many cocks fuck you, you'll always feel this way…of course, mine will be the only one you'll ever have.”

That earned him a disgusted look from Claire.

Sylar’s hips began to slam into the petite girl’s, forcing his length to be accepted. She would accept him. After a few hard thrusts, he had finally pushed his entirety into her, Holding himself in place, Sylar moved his hands from her hips, to trail up to her breasts, grasping at the perfect globes of softness. The expression on Claire’s face was a mixture, there was anger and pain, shame of course. But there was also arousal, her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled slightly in the moonlight, almost begging for him to resume his work. Fingers squeezed and tugged at her breasts before they slipped back down her sides. His left hand held onto leg while his right thumb went to her clitoris. Now his hips began a very slow but very deep pace of thrusting in and out of Claire Bennet. As his member pushed in and out of her trembling walls, his thumb was moving at a slightly quicker pace, prodding the protruding clit, occasionally rolling circles against it.

Part of Sylar wished to give Claire full use of her body but he still didn’t think he could trust her outright. Instead he had to slowly lessen the leash’s hold around her neck. Tonight she could speak, and during their next reunion he might grant her use of her hands, but not her arms, that would be a big step and she’d have to accomplish other feats before Sylar let her use her arms. The last thing he wanted was her trying to punch or strangle him, as it would be most unpleasant and dampen the mood he was trying to create.

A powerful feeling was building inside of Claire, making it harder to breathe. She let out several small gasps as she closed her eyes. Sylar felt so good, it was almost too much for her brain to comprehend but she couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt. Yes, it was painful but the pain was secondary to the feeling of being encapsulated by a veil of fire. Able to feel him slowly pushing in and then out with controlled force was steadily pushing her closer to her limit. Sure, from time to time the perky cheerleader would touch herself but this situation was entirely different than anything she’d ever felt before. Groaning softly, she felt Sylar’s thumb cease its movement. “We’re not finishing until you’ve moaned my name.” He reminded her, knowing she had to be close. “Claire…” She opened her eyes to gaze up at him.

A whimper escaped her lips, the way his dark deep baritone voice said her name, made her feel oddly obedient. Sylar’s dark eyes bore into her light colored ones and she knew his name was right on the tip of her tongue. Pushing himself all the way up into her, his hands held on tight to her thighs, his nails digging into her skin but neither of them were concerned with any bruises. There was a sharp inhale from Claire as she felt him begin to pick up speed with his thrusts. “Sy…” She whimpered, wanting to say anything but his name but knew he wouldn’t give her anything else until she said his name. “Syla…!” She felt him hit a rather sensitive area, causing the blond to yelp and nearly lose herself. Her attempts were unsatisfactory so he decided to move even faster, her bed creaking along with his motions. “Sy...Sylar.” Claire finally moaned out, her eyes closing, trying to somehow hide from the whole situation. Sylar leaned over and kissed her forehead as if he were praising a small but petulant young child. This only further aggravated Claire. “Don’t touch me, you fuckin’ bastard.” She huffed.

It seemed that Claire no longer needed her voice for the rest of the evening so he was more than happy to silence her once again, having heard what he wanted. He had gotten the stubborn girl to moan his name, it was a start. Sylar continued to pump into her, his jeans lightly scraping against her flesh. It didn’t take long for Claire to climax and when he felt her walls contract around him, it sent him over the edge. Sylar let out a shaky moan as he released his load into her, his hands gripped her hips hard as the pair seemed suspended in bliss. His cum began to leak out of her pussy, pooling beneath her. Catching his breath, he slowly pulled out of her, even with their soft panting, the wet gushing noise could still be heard. Sylar looked down at the mess and then at the flushed girl, he was already plotting how he’d get to use her again. He put her legs down and crept up toward her parted lips. Kissing her deeply, his hands slipped through her tousled golden hair. 

For a long moment, he wanted to use his telekinesis to cut open her pretty little head but it would be risky and the mess would be difficult for her to explain should her parents notice the blood, not to mention the cum stained mattress. His hands drifted down to wrap around her back, bringing her up against his body. If he were sentimental he’d consider staying longer but he got what he wanted, which was Claire. Her power could wait, it wasn’t going anywhere and neither was he. Sylar broke the kiss and moved off of her, zipping his jeans and making himself more presentable, though what anyone thought of him, mattered little to the murderer. He could feel her eyes following him as he circled over to the door and opened it. Everyone still seemed asleep. He had hoped to stir some trouble, perhaps next time he’d be more successful. 

“Good night Claire, I’ll see you again soon.” He closed the door and turned back to her. “Should you have the need to tell anyone I’m here or that I paid you a visit, I will return and that will not bode well for you or your family.” He said quietly, his tone deadly as he moved back to the bed and bent over her naked form. “I do forgive you for running off…” He muttered, tracing a finger up from her stomach up between her breasts. “Even if it did sadden me, it did not surprise me.” Sylar’s hand slipped around her throat, not yet tightening around the smooth skin. Sylar studied her, thinking back to how angry and how upset it had made him. He felt careless and humiliated. His hand tightened around her neck, enjoying the panic in her eyes, hoping she could feel a fraction of how he felt in the motel parking lot. “I saved you from New York and you repaid my kindness with betrayal.” He frowned, still choking her with deliberate care. “I had thought we were beginning to see eye to eye...I’m not giving up on you, Claire. You’re my favorite shiny new toy.” He brought up his left wrist to look at his watch, timing how long he was choking her. The thin hand kept tick tick ticking. He looked from the timepiece to Claire, her skin now pale, her eyes rolled in the back of her head. Sighing, he released his grip and slowly color began to return to her face.

Gasping for air, she sat up, finally coming around, she noticed she could finally move. Claire looked to see her captor had taken his leave. Her tank top was still torn down the middle and her legs were covered in hardened cum. Claire got up and changed into a new top and tossed her old pajamas away, stuffing the evidence under her bed. Hurrying to the bathroom, she grabbed a wet washcloth and cleaned herself off. Normally there would be bruises where his hands had been but looking in the mirror, Claire looked like a normal, untouched, girl. Once back in bed, she curled up, keeping away from the wet part of the bed, too tired to bother to change the sheets at the moment. Sleep did not come easy to the high schooler so when her mother banged on her door, Claire could barely fend off the woman’s declaration of it being breakfast time. It was Saturday and the teenager had little desire to leave the house. She felt violated, again. After the third summons, she yelled at her mother that she’d be down soon. Rolling out of bed, Claire hastily removed the sheets and balled them up and took them down to the laundry room. She put them in the washer and doubled back into the kitchen to see her family halfway through their meal. “You sleep well, Claire Bear?” Her father asked.

“Uhh yeah.” She swallowed and moved over to make herself a plate of waffles and bacon. The rest of the morning was uneventful. Her family went about their day as Claire lounged around the house, watching tv and doing chores around the house. They still had boxes to unpack so that was another means to distract her from the events with Sylar. It seemed like every time she closed her eyes, she could see his face above her, smirking at her. She felt sick. When Monday rolled around, Claire dressed in a short tight denim skirt and had on a black tank top, over that was a low cut white tee shirt, showing off said tank top. Her hair was wavy and bounced as she walked toward the high school. The autumn sun was a comfort but it didn’t make her feel any less worried. Was Sylar watching her now? He surely knew where her brother went to school and where her father worked. As much as she wanted to tell someone, she couldn’t endanger them. Maybe she could confide in West?

Walking to her locker, she twisted the lock and opened it, finding a small note that said ‘Thinking of you.’ She smiled at the thought of West swooping in behind her, taking her in his arms. During Biology, she found West absent and couldn’t help but worry. During lunch, she ate by herself but as she finished, another cheerleader approached her and mentioned she was still being considered since the head cheerleader, Debbie, had been suspended for underage drinking. It was part of a prank she and West had pulled and it still bothered her that she had tricked someone, even a bitch like Debbie. Still, it did ensure she had a possible spot as a cheerleader now, so she tried to think positively as she cleaned up after the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. Now it was time for english. Claire sat in the back of her American Literature class as a few girls giggled in the front, mentioning something about a new long-term substitute teacher and how hot he was. Not looking up from her phone, she heard roll call begin. Since she was still getting used to her new alias, she didn’t look up when her name was called. After a second attempt, she still hadn’t acknowledged her own presence. Footsteps clicked against the tile floor and stopped in front of her desk, causing the class to turn and look at the tall, dark handsome teacher take hold of the device that seemed to be more pressing than his class.

“You should know the rules, no texting during class.” Sylar pocketed her nokia, placing it in the breast pocket of his black blazer. He had on matching black pants a simple white collar shirt. He was casual but still very well put together. Sylar was going by his plain name of Gabriel Grey and had found it astonishingly easy to pose as a substitute teacher. Claire looked up at him, her mouth and her heart dropping. She stumbled up from her desk and looked around. There were witnesses around. If she attacked him, she’d get in serious trouble and now she couldn’t text her father for help. Sylar couldn’t lay a hand on her though. “Sit down, Ms. Butler or I’ll write you up for detention.” Sylar turned and walked back to the front of the class. Her eyes watched him as she slowly sat back down, shoulders slouched. The next forty-five minutes passed painfully slow for the blond. She had another class left but before she could hurry out the door, she felt Sylar’s power pin her to her seat. “I told you we’d be seeing one another soon...just as I told you I’d find you.” The lock on the classroom door clicked as he walked towards the girl, finally having her alone and all to himself.

She still didn’t get his fascination with her. Why did he think they were connected? “Go fuck yourself and get the fuck outta my life.” She snapped. It took considerable control to not fling her desk back into the wall but that would bring too much attention to them. 

“Tell me Claire, when your boyfriend...West is it?” Sylar placed his hands on her small desk which was connected to her chair. “When West kisses you, does he even know what he’s doing?” He asked her, forcing her to look up and meet his intense gaze. “Does he fumble like a little boy, unsure of where to even put his nervous hands?” His lips locked with hers, his hands snaking around the back of her head to cradle her head back as he deepened the kiss, making her part her lips for his tongue, it sweeping into her smaller mouth. A small moan from Claire could be heard just before the closet door by Sylar’s desk flew open to reveal West pinned to it. On Friday night, Sylar had spotted West flying from Claire’s home and he followed the boy and captured him with pathetic ease. Sylar had tied and gagged him, leaving him in his home over the weekend. In the morning, he left Claire a note and set up his victim in the closet of the classroom he had been given for his english class. Sylar wanted West to see what a real man could do with a woman like Claire Bennet. He pulled back and stepped aside to let Claire see their new guest. “Does he make you feel the way I do?” He whispered into her ear, moving behind her now.

“I hate you.” Claire muttered, her face blushing wildly. Sylar massaged her shoulders as his teeth nipped her ear. 

“Do you?” He believed she did hate him but he also believed she understood their bond, it was unbreakable. “Because it seems like you want me.” Sylar bent down and picked her up, throwing him over her shoulder as he paced back toward his desk, glancing to West who remained pinned against the door, unable to move or look away. Sylar pinned Claire on his desk, letting her lay back lengthwise against the soft maple wood. Due to her small stature, only her feet hung off the desk as she could see West in front of her, watching with horror and anger. “You can’t deny the way I made you feel, just hours after West abandoned you on Friday.” Sylar recalled the look in her eyes when he was between her legs. Sylar didn’t see how she could even put up with her blundering fool of a boyfriend. Sylar knew every inch of Claire’s body, the same way he knew how ever gear made a watch tick. He could make her feel incredible, make her weep with joy, make her scream his name for the entire world to hear. His fingers were delicate and knew exactly what to do. And his cock fit perfectly in her snug holes, well the two he had tried out. The third would be broken in, given time. “Admit I’m superior.” He pointed a finger to West’s forehead. “Or your boyfriend not only loses you, but also his power to fly.” Sylar grinned.

Sylar knew there was no real comparison but he needed Claire to say it herself, that he was better. He also needed it to be the last thing West heard before he killed him. Flying didn’t interest him and her didn’t see why Claire would like such a boring ability but if it would make her happy, he would take it from West and add it to his collection. “Stop!” Claire cried out but she felt something against her panties as she remained pinned to the desk. It felt as though a finger was pressing into her. Her panties shifted as it felt like he was rubbing a finger against her. She held back a moan and heard muffled screaming. She looked up, able to see Sylar slowly slicing through West’s forehead. “I…” Blood began to trail from the insertion. Sylar was in full control of his powers in the moment, keeping West and Claire pinned down, mentally fingering her, all while cutting up his latest victim. His ego couldn’t grow any larger in the moment but he still needed Claire to stroke it, at the very least. 

“Say it!” Sylar demanded as he was now halfway through his procedure. West groaned and cried out, his face scrunched up in pain as the trails of blood dripped down his chin. “Say it, Claire. Tell us both who you’d much rather have.”

“I…” She clenched her jaw, torn between saving West or feeding into Sylar’s sick fantasy. “I...I want you more, Sylar.” She said quickly, her heart pounding.

“That isn’t very convincing, you can do better, Claire.” Sylar chided her as he kept cutting through the boy’s skull. 

“You’re better than him!” She started to cry, unable to get West’s muffled cries out of her head. All she wanted was everything to stop. The invisible finger kept stroking her through her panties, coaxing some damp spots to form. “You know what you’re doing, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything, not like you.” Claire whimpered. That seemed to be enough as Sylar finished cutting up West and peered into the boy’s brain. He moved a hand around, feeling for a certain something. He finally found the extra bit that told the man everything he needed to know. His power kicked in and instantly, his brain had acquired the ability of flight. He dropped West’s dead body to the floor and turned back to his girl, wearing a grin.

“Very good, Claire.” He stepped back over to her, leaning over to cup her face with his bloody hand. “It’s a shame you broke up with him like that…” He taunted her as she continued to cry. Sylar kissed her lightly as his other hand replaced the one he had mentally teased her with. “Now I don’t have to share you with anyone.” He muttered against her lips. Sylar released his hold on her and she pushed herself up as Sylar hovered above the floor, already testing out his newest power. It was unimpressive but it did mean he could sneak up on Claire easier, pay her another visit at night without needing to break into her house like a common criminal. Though picking locks was a lot like repairing clocks and watches, so it was hardly trouble for the dark haired man. “You have a class to get to.” He noted as she jumped down from his desk and looked over at the bloody body propped against the closet door. “I can write you a note.” He offered her as his feet touched the floor.

“Stay the hell away from me!” She growled and stormed out of the classroom, using her strength to pull it open and slam it shut, the hinges broke and it fell to the floor with a loud bang. Claire caught up to her gym class and once it ended, she hurried home. She took a long hot shower and tried to get the look on West’s face out of her head.

Meanwhile Sylar cleaned up the mess, knowing if the police or The Company saw his handiwork, it would spoil his fun with Claire. Sylar had almost wanted to ask her to pick between him slicing her or West open but he didn’t think it would have been as thrilling as making her confess his obvious superiority. Sylar went back to his spacious house. He had liberated a few stores in the L.A area to furnish his hideout. The living room had modern black angular leather couches and glass coffee tables. There were paintings on the walls he had taken from some ritzy gallery and the large windows were adorned with red see-through drapes that fell to the floor. The kitchen and everywhere else, was just as pristine and stylish. Of course it lacked warmth, it lacked hospitality. To him though, he was kept company by the various clocks hung up around the two-story residence. Their ticking noise felt like home to him, as that’s all his mind seemed to do.

Cooking himself a stir-fry dinner, the man sat alone at his black marble table that had a few school books strewn around it. He had been reading a few Shakespeare plays over the past weekend, mostly the tragedies, finding some kinship within the bard’s pages. His black blazer was hung up in the closet and he felt like he could call Costa Verde a home for the time being. Unless of course, Claire ran again, then he’d pack up and follow her. Though the dry climate was nothing like New York City, he felt comfortable and looked forward to his new job as a substitute teacher, its biggest perk being able to play with Claire whenever he wanted, which was becoming fairly often. She seemed to be always on his mind. His initial interest was based on her strength and regeneration ability but he now saw her as a stunning woman, wasting away in the life her father made her lead. Claire was destined to be great, just as Sylar was. While Claire would never be his equal by any means, he now wanted to keep her around. Her tight tanned body was perfect and he intended to make sure no one else knew her inner workings. How could anyone else but him understand her? Someday she would see the truth as he did. 

He finished his dinner and cleaned up, deciding to do some repairs. Though he had some income as a substitute now, he had also put an ad in the paper about being able to repair watches, clocks and the like since it kept his hands busy and numble, kept his dexterity and precision on point. Sylar sat down at his workbench and slipped on his glasses to help him see the array of small parts.

“Claire, honey, be a dear and go give these to the house down across from us, at the corner of Pine and Oak. They just moved in like us and I figure we could both use some friends in the area.” Her mother handed Claire a paper plate with chewy brownies on it. “Hurry back though, dinner is almost ready.” Her mother shooed Claire out of the kitchen as her father kissed her forehead before loosening his tie and heading for the kitchen table. Claire took the plate and headed out the door, not really in the mood to meet anyone or do anything. The one person she thought she could call a friend was dead and it was because of her. She couldn’t save West. Walking down the street, she crossed the empty road and continued down until she reached the house on the corner. Given her mental state, she hadn’t really noticed a moving truck or anything at all. Still, she knocked and waited, hoping she could just ditch the brownies in the mailbox and head back home.

The time flew by for Sylar and the only thing to snap him out of his trance was a knock at the door. He rose from his chair and set down his glasses and headed over to the front door. He unlocked it and opened it, surprised to see Claire standing right in front of him. Sylar had met her mother before and knew the woman was pretty hospitable and that it wouldn’t be long before she sent her son or daughter over with some baked treats. It was risky for him to be living so close to her family but he couldn’t resist and thought Claire would sleep much better knowing he was always close by. “It seems our paths keep crossing, Claire.” He leaned against the doorframe, keeping her rooted in place with ease. His hearing picked up on her frantic heartbeat, much too fast for a normal girl her age. “Come in.” He said, though she didn’t have a choice as she stepped through, the heavy white wooden door closing and locking behind her. “I’m guessing you can’t stay, it’s about dinner time…” He muttered and sat on the couch, twisting his finger to have her set the brownies down on the glass table in front of him. He then had her go into the kitchen to get two glasses of milk.

“It’s so thoughtful of you to pay me a visit, I thought after this afternoon you might be still mad...I’m relieved that isn’t the case.” Sylar smiled as he grabbed a brownie as his other finger controlled his guest’s movement, having her sit down beside him. “Thank you.” He took one of the glasses of cold milk and took a sip. “Mmm...today has been quite a good day.” He sat back, draping an arm around the back of the leather couch, relaxing beside his company. “How about you, Claire? How was your day?” He unhinged her jaw so she could finally engage in conversation. 

“Terrible.” She glared.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sounded so sincere. Picking up brownie, he held it up to her lips. “Maybe this will help?” She took a bite, still sending invisible daggers his way. “Now that we’re practically neighbors, I’m hoping to try out the range of my powers. He said as he finished the rest of his own chocolate baked good. He took another drink of milk and nudged his finger up, having Claire stand. “Seems you must be going, however...I’ll be exercising my powers tonight, so I do hope you plan your evening attire accordingly, I’d hate to further ruin any of your cute little clothes.” He flicked his finger and sent her on her way but not before he slipped her cell phone between her two breasts. She had run off before he could give it to her after his demonstration. Sylar rose from the couch and went back to his tinkering, hoping to have filled Claire with some anxiety and dread, but also curiosity. Back at school he had given her a taste of what his mental powers could do, what he was capable of. It seemed despite the stressful circumstances, she had reacted well to his generosity and comfort.

Back home, she helped her mother finish dishes. As the two were drying off the final plate, Claire felt something brush against her butt, like a hand or something. She froze and looked around. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing. I’m imagining things...” Claire replied and hurried up to bed, thankful she hadn’t broken anything. She climbed on her bed and looked out the window, wondering if Sylar was flying around, using his powers already. It had only been an hour since he gave her a warning. She sat on the bed and folded her arms, figuring he was messing with her head, playing some kind of mind game because he was fucked up in the head. Claire began to do some of the reading she was behind in but then felt another ghost of a hand brush against her clothed breasts. Claire tried to concentrate on the book in her hands but the sensation traveled down between her legs.

Back at his home, Sylar was lying on his couch, his eyes closed as he visualized Claire. If he was further away by even a few yards, he was sure his power would fail to find its intended target. Syler pictured her folds and motioned two fingers to slip inside. 

Letting out a groan between clenched teeth, she felt her textbook fall from her grasp, it felt as something had slipped inside of her. It felt like two rigid fingers and they began to quickly push in and out of her.

Sylar could feel the physical resistance and grinned, knowing he had her now. After several minutes of putting his fingers to good use, he went to a window and opened it, slipping out and flying over to where Claire was, intending to get a front row seat to see the show. His other hand twisted and rubbed her clit. He felt it was a shame he only had two hands but as he looked through the window down on her bed, he was rewarded with a wonderful sight. Claire was withering on her bed, her back arched up as he continued to finger fuck her. Even through the window, he could her low moans and change in breathing. Sylar spent the next several hours toying with her, letting his hands roam all over her body, forcing her to orgasm a total of six times before he noticed how late it had become.

The following morning, Claire felt like a zombie, sore and mentally unaware of most of the things going on around her. Sylar had kept her up for several hours, only letting her sleep for two hours before dawn rose. As she slumped in her chair, Sylar walked over to her and crouched down beside her, the way some teachers did to show they cared but Claire wasn’t fooled. His mock concern only made her want to break his neck. “You look awful, Claire. DId you get enough sleep last night?”

“No.” She said, clearly annoyed.

“Do remember not to text in my class.” He said as he got up and went back to the front and began his lecture. Claire tuned out most of the class, spending the time stabbing herself with her mechanical pencil to keep herself awake. She’d puncture the skin and watch it repair itself. This was done several dozen times that eventually she lost track of the time. It wasn’t until she heard people packing up to go to their final class, that she noticed the class had finally finished. Claire got up and slipped her things away but once again, Sylar stopped her from fleeing so easily.

“What is it now?” She was tired of his antics and found herself feeling really tempted to tell her father about Sylar. He could sense her limit being reached which was a shame but Sylar knew how to handle these blockades, having foreseen them. 

He couldn’t keep toying with Claire the same way either. He needed some excitement and it seemed, so did Claire. “You were so good last night, I heard you moan my name without even being asked. Because of that, we’re taking a trip to New York, I think you’d enjoy seeing your grandmother again. Maybe she knows how Peter and Nathan are, if they’re still alive.” Sylar suggested. His mind went back to taking her in the alley, it seemed so long ago. Her eyes lit up, as it seemed Sylar had found the right button to push. She had such a soft heart, it was too easy for him to manipulate her. He’d have to work on that weakness of hers at some point. “After your last class, I’ll fly us there personally and have you have back before bedtime.” 

It was an offer Claire couldn’t turn down. Once gym ended, she showered and met Sylar outside of the school. He picked her up, his arms locking around her waist as he ensured she held onto him too, and took to the sky. Claire looked as the country blurred, they slipped between low clouds every now and then, the sun set while en route and Claire couldn’t help but briefly consider how less of a psychopath he looked in the orange glow. After an hour, they were back on solid ground, back in the very same alley he had cornered her. The alley had worse memories for Claire than Sylar, as she quickly hurried out of it, followed by a more wistful guardian. He allowed her to visit her grandmother and see Nathan, who was in the hospital. Sylar then took Claire out to a nice Italian restaurant, wanting to see how a typical couple might spend a Tuesday evening together. The conversation was minimal but it was enough to give Sylar the illusion he wished to create, that she was just as happy as he was. He truly believed that in time, she would see things from his perspective. Claire looked at him across the small table, almost able to understand his insanity. Almost. She could see he was lonely and desperate. He thought she was the cure for all of that. He was selfish and manipulative, without a doubt and yet, she couldn’t deny that he probably understood her better than even own family. On a microscopic level, Claire had to wonder if she and Sylar shared more than just a gift, if maybe, there was some truth to his delusions. It was a frightening thought. She just didn’t know how deep his nails were already sinking into her, making her consider even for the briefest of moments, that Sylar was who she needed, who she might want to become.


End file.
